


Sugar-Drunk

by Artemis_Dreamer



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Candy Binge, Crack, FrostIron - Freeform, Humor, M/M, Mild Citrus, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony refuses to share his candy, Loki causes trouble, and things turn out surprisingly well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar-Drunk

“Has anyone ever told you how unbelievably, fuckably gorgeous you are?” Tony Stark was leaning across his workbench, leering at his companion.

“Yes, you have. Twice, in the last half-hour alone.” His companion, the one and only god of mischief, smirked. 

Tony was in a state that he had personally and unscientifically classified as “sugar-drunk”, and Loki was utterly enjoying every minute of his bizarre behavior (while attempting not to reveal that he was nearly as intoxicated himself).

Tony reached into the massive bag of Skittles that they’d been eating from, and grabbed a generous handful. However, Loki’s hand closed around his wrist before he could raise the handful to his salivating mouth.

“Dammit, Lokes, what now?” He’d just given the god a compliment, so why was said god trying to stand between him and more delectable sugar?

“You,” Loki paused, “are not sharing.”

Tony groaned. He’s bought the damn candy, and they were in his workshop, in his tower, sitting on his chairs. Ah, what the hell – there was more where this came from.

Tony held out his hand, full of tempting sugar candy, and watched the show; Loki, as he leant forward and took a mouthful directly from the inventor’s hand, using way too much tongue in the process.

Tony groaned with frustration. Now, more than ever, the billionaire desperately wanted to flat-out kiss that Norse menace. So much so, that it was getting painful. (His arousal, that is).

The god had been such a colossal tease all afternoon, but both parties were still stubbornly abiding by the rules of their little agreement, and Tony was damned if he’d be the first to crack.

Stupid agreement, the inventor thought petulantly. 

Loki snagged a single piece of candy with that artful tongue, and held it between his sugar-stained lips. Tony flushed with heat, somewhere between overwhelming lust and hysterical laughter.

Loki began to suck on the candy, making the most obscene noises of satisfaction, and Tony very nearly swore out loud.

It was a shame that his brain still functioned fairly well while drunk, even sugar-drunk, because he wanted an excuse to forget, and an excuse to fuck this gorgeous being over his workbench as the pile of empty candy bags crinkled beneath their bodies.

Okay, Tony was pretty much lost in a haze of lust, Loki was well on his way to that point as he lasciviously licked Tony’s palm to snag the last of the sweets it held, and maybe I should explain.

\---

Tony Stark had been sheltering Loki Laufeyson, escaped Asgardian criminal, in his Tower for the last five days. During said time, they had agreed, despite their obvious mutual attraction, that there would be “no starting of relationships, not even sexual ones, because that’s a crazier bag of cats than your brain.”

(Oh, and they’d also agreed on a shower schedule.)

They’d been fine, as fine as a batshit crazy god and a promiscuous billionaire could possibly be together, until today.

Tony had been working on his new entertainment console design, and had unwisely begun snacking on some Swedish Fish candy while he worked. Loki, who for the past five days had insisted on watching Tony like a particularly smug hawk, had snagged a few of the candies right out from under the inventor’s fingertips.

This had utterly and irrationally incensed Tony. After all, no-one touched his stuff.

He’d grabbed an unopened bag of candy, pitched it at Loki with all the petulance of a child refusing to share, and it had all gone spiraling out of control from there.

Loki had begun goading Tony, racing him to finish off their candy, and the supposed genius had fallen for it (forgetting all about the work that needed doing).

Six bags later, they had agonizing stomach aches, were both sugar-drunk off their asses, and Loki was being an insufferable intergalactic cocktease.

Okay, that brings us up to speed.

\---

We rejoin our odd couple as Tony thrust his length fully into the tight heat of Loki’s ass, groaning with satisfaction.

This was what he’d been craving, it felt even more incredible than he’d hoped, and since Loki had initiated the stickily-sweet make-out-session that had led to this, he technically hadn’t cracked first. 

That was a big A+ across the board, and it sure as hell felt like it (what with the tightness of Loki around him, their desperate movements as they bucked and thrust in tandem, and all those delicious moans –). 

Tony was rapidly approaching the edge, and he could tell that Loki was, too. 

As the climax neared, the billionaire thrust harder and harder, panting out a soliloquy of praises to his personal god, who writhed and gasped beneath him. Then, the climax reared its head, roared, and overcame them both, in a cresting wave of unbelievable pleasure. 

It was everything they’d both been wanting; Tony knew his side of it for a fact, and was pretty damn sure about Loki’s satisfaction too. After all, the god was still twined pliantly around Tony’s body, eyes lidded as he shuddered through the aftershocks. 

Then, Loki’s dilated green eyes met Tony’s, and the billionaire was completely certain; the god’s mind was just as widely blown-open as his own. 

The god in question tangled his fingers in the inventor’s hair, and gave a lazy, satisfied smile. 

“Are you certain that you’re mortal, Stark?” Loki was only half-joking when he asked.

Tony yawned broadly, more than a little dizzy, as his physical exhaustion brought him down from the sugar high he’d been on all afternoon. 

“One hundred percent mortal over here, Lokes.” Tony smirked back, “or didn’t you know that mortals could fuck that hard?”

“I am certain,” Loki gave his own elegant little yawn, “that it’s only you.”

“Intergalactic whore.” Tony muttered fondly, and it was pretty damn true. So true, in fact, that Loki didn’t bother to smite him.

Instead, the god waved a hand at the nearby area of bare floor, one of the rare uncluttered parts of the workshop, and they watched as a luridly colored blanket appeared in the space. 

“Tired already, gorgeous?” Tony teased, actually feeling like lying down would be pretty fucking perfect right now. Wow, were sex and sugar ever a draining combination.

“Exhausted,” Loki replied. He didn’t say ‘by your sexual prowess’ out loud, but Tony’s ego added the words in automatically. 

The two men yawned again at almost exactly the same time, and then shared a simultaneous burst of laughter, as they ungracefully flopped down together onto the ridiculously comfortable blanket. 

Sprawled out, lazily intertwined, they shared one last laugh, before drifting peacefully into unconsciousness. This was an almighty sugar crash after an overindulgence of epic proportions, and they’d be out for a damn long time.

\---

It was the rest of the Avengers team that found Tony and the deity, late in the following afternoon, and the position in which they were found was certainly compromising.

Loki and Tony were wrapped in one-another’s arms, giggling and pressing closer together even in their sleep.

They were lying naked, under the tackiest-looking blanket imaginable, surrounded by more than half-a-dozen scattered empty candy bags. (Bags that had fallen from the workbench at some point during the sex they’d had on it).

The two men were too unconscious to know that they’d just rendered the Avengers collectively speechless, and too unconscious to hear Clint gagging, Natasha calling Director Fury, Thor whimpering in horror, or Steve and Bruce fleeing from the room. 

They’d regain consciousness together in the holding cell at SHIELD, some time later, unfortunately just in time to get their asses reamed out by an angry Fury.

Sure, Loki would be sent back to Asgardian prison, and sure, Tony would be in deep shit, but there was one thing that their lividly furious and disapproving peers didn’t know…

That the two men were now inextricably linked, by the bonds of smut and sugar, and that all it would take was a single Swedish Fish for this entire cycle of chaos to begin again.

This wouldn’t be the only time; in fact, this would happen so embarrassingly often that the term “sugar-drunk” would become commonly used vocabulary in the Avengers Tower. This would happen so damn often that Loki would eventually end up becoming an Avenger himself.

Why? Because sugar-coated sex is awesome, the relationship between the chaos god and the playboy is even more awesome, and the laws of the universe itself are willing to bend to facilitate all of that awesomeness.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This is the first crack-fic I've written in a long time, and it was a lot of fun to write; hopefully it was also fun to read.
> 
> Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.


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